Swims aims down the beamer, hesitates, lowers the rifle for a moment, then brings it back up. The distinctive WHAP is followed by Davis falling over onto his back, a smoking bloody crater blown from his stomach. Aerosoled meat hangs in the air.
Davis is still alive, but isn't really coherent enough to continue his speech without medical aid.
The shaman definitely has a subtle hue of schadenfreude in his fur as he looks over the scene. The chief is impressed, at least with the weaponry.
Luis steps up with his frisbee. Since he's not sure how Davis would want to continue the demonstration patter, he merely keeps silent and fixes the wound efficiently. Let him speak for himself, he thinks.
He doesn't really approve of the idea, but it's showy and apparently miraculous, so he can see why it works. Hell, he used something similar to get those soldiers back in the Mesa Negras armory to let him use the frisbee on them way back when.
Davis spits up a rivulet of blood and rations, then gasps in relief as Luis seals his wound with the frisbee and helps him to his feet. Best to show the crowd the skin reforming over the ragged wound while it's still... fresh. The reaction is unsurprising - awed whispers, nervous Wherren, barks of confusion.
Hiigra steps closer to Davis and the team. He motions at Cowboy, and at Angel, even at Luis. "You disapprove of this one - " he points to Davis - "using this power. Why?" he asks.
Davis manages to not cry out in pain when the bolt hits him, but that doesn't stop his legs from giving out from the shock to his system. He grits his teeth hard and resists the urge to grab the wound, to shove his hands in it. "Aaarrh!" Davis shouts, and manages to laugh a little through his teeth at how crazy this idea is.
The pain spikes again as Luis starts the kauka, and now he screams a bit, but calms down once the healing starts to feel better instead of hurting like crazy. Luis stands him up to show the regenerating wound to the crowd. When the chief approaches, Davis gives them a look. Remember, we're not gods. Honest answers.
Luis puts the frisbee in his gear before responding. With Whir speech's gestural component, he doesn't want to be essentially talking with his mouth full.
"I'm a healer as well as a warrior. Seeing Davis put himself through pain just to demonstrate our technology is...not pleasant. I can see the necessity, but that does not make it easy to watch." He looks around at the other members of the team then says, "I think my comrades feel the same."
They reach the Whirr village, and Semo seems quite comfortable with these strange aliens. As he goes about his business, he chats amiably with any Whirr nearby.
It's not long before things become both quite serious and quite odd. Davis sets up a situation of having himself shot, which Semo is not quite certain what to make of. By time it actually happens, though, he has at least accepted that it is going to happen. Allowed such preparation, the big sargeant only betrays his feelings with a slight grimace. The spook has stones - he'll give him that.
Soon, with the help of the kauka, Davis is recovering from the outlandish display. Fortunately, Swims shot him in a place that wasn't instantly fatal. Still, Semo has some idea what it must have felt like, having been wounded many times himself.
Hiigra nods upon hearing Luis and Angel and seeing Semo's reaction. He seems satisfied that Davis is not the only mouthpiece of the group, that Swims is not some kind of slave, and it's clear he desires the particle beamers for his tribe.
"I understand," he says after a moment. "You have come a long way, and we will trade with you. Come to the longhouse and rest and we will talk." The chief waves the team towards a long, low hut, reinforced with salvaged superstructure from the Groi container ship that lies dead half a day's march from the village. A reed mat covers the floor, and the walls are adorned with Wherren writing.
Sure, it's been a few years and you didn't really know how to recognize individual Wherren all that well at the time, but the people who visited the village before definitely remember there being a different shaman, even older than the current one, with white tinges to his hair. There was the one-eyed Wherren as well, some sort of high-ranking warrior or hunter. The chief... it's hard to tell if it's the same chief, although Hiigra's metal tusk makes him pretty memorable. You do remember the Wherren being much more inviting and open-minded about trading before, however. They seem more suspicious this time around.
While the skin on his stomach finishes healing, Davis embraces Swims after the chief beckons them to the longhouse and claps him on the back. "Thanks for doing that for me. Let's hope they don't need a show like that again, huh?"
Swims checks Davis' healing wound and nods. "I think they are sold on our 'magic'."
Davis spits up a rivulet of blood and rations, then gasps in relief as Luis seals his wound with the frisbee and helps him to his feet. Best to show the crowd the skin reforming over the ragged wound while it's still... fresh. The reaction is unsurprising - awed whispers, nervous Wherren, barks of confusion.
Hiigra steps closer to Davis and the team. He motions at Cowboy, and at Angel, even at Luis. "You disapprove of this one - " he points to Davis - "using this power. Why?" he asks.
"Well, I don't necessarily disapprove of that one. It's just that his methods could be a little less invasive." remarks Cowboy, not completely denying the fact that Davis is...and will always be a Washington desk-jockey cleverly disguised as someone who knows the first thing about unconventional warfare.
He walks over to the ATV and starts to re-dress himself. He's sliding on his armor again when Hugh walks over. "Trust me, that's what I was thinking about. We need these people to believe that we're the real deal, that our shit is just as good as the Imperium's, so we can get them to make a clean break. It wasn't pleasant," he cinches down the armor's straps, "but I couldn't think of a better way to do it, you?"
"Coulda shot one of the grunts," Hugh quips with a grin.
"Eh, that wouldn't be fair, would it, Captain Verrill?" Davis replies, returning the smile. "I'm not afraid of them kicking my ass, but Ngawai on the other hand..."
"Then dial the crazy back a notch," Hugh says, "or she'll hear about one of your stunts."
"Yeah, hopefully I don't have to do that again." Davis raps on his armor plate. "Do you think I can convince her that this is a heroic war wound?"
"You?" Hugh smirks. "Not in a thousand years."
The inside of the Wherren longhouse is surprisingly well-ventilated, although it's nowhere near air-conditioned. Hiigra and the shaman enter, accompanied by three elder Wherren and enough younger braves to equal your group's number. Cowboy opts to stand watch outside, which prompts one of the Wherren braves to refrain from entering as well. The elders and shaman sit and invite any of you to do the same if you like. Hiigra pulls a hide curtain over the longhouse opening, which seems to tell the gathered crowd that the show's over for now. Cowboy watches the curious onlookers head back to tanning animal hides, tending cooking fires, or organizing hunting and gathering teams.
"I think it is clear you have weapons and medicine we want," Hiigra starts. "What else might you have, and what do you want in trade?"
Cowboy removes his pack and parks its next to himself, slinging the rifle and savoring the quiet of camp life. He pays close attention to the hunting/gathering teams, determining who and how the leaders get things done on this planet.
Once things have settled down to the point where he's just another fixture in daily life, Cowboy breaks out some beef jerky from one his BDU pockets and has a mid-day snack.
Davis takes a seat and slings his rifle across his back. "The most valuable thing we have is knowledge," Davis says, unclipping his vox from his armor and tapping on the screen a few times. He brings up a copy of the first lesson from the educational program that was cut together from Imperium sources (with the Imperium brainwashing bullshit cut out, of course), Bashakran input, and Earth's own materials. He starts the video and hands it to Hiigra. "The ability to lift not only your tribe, but all Wherren up to the Imperium's level. Swims-the-Black was educated by them, and when we met him, he was the captain his own ship between the stars. We offer you a chance the Imperium has denied you, to determine your own destiny."
"In return, as was mentioned before, what we ask is that you consider what we have to say in regards to the Imperium and their intentions towards your people," Davis says. "There's a lot that you need to know if you are to truly understand their relationship with your people beyond what they have simply told you. Also, we have a need for a specific type of artifact, a large ring, about as tall as two of your people. There were many of them at the ruins nearby here, and we need to find one and repair it. It opens...it opens a door between here and many, many other places, and having one will greatly help both of our groups."
Cowboy snacks on some jerky while he observes the village. The wherren who left with him, a tall, gangly brave, sizes him up and seems to accept the hairiest Delta as the most wherren-like, especially when the food comes out. Now that the village is back to an excited, nervous, but normal state of operation, Cowboy sees that hunting parties form in small groups of 3-5 wherren. Groups leaving to gather fruits and such are larger, and travel with obvious guards. Perhaps this tribe isn't on good terms with neighbors, but it could easily simply be because of alien beasts like the grawhl they found in that cave. It's hard for him to tell, but Cowboy is pretty sure there's no real delineated split between gender roles. More males are hunting, more females are gathering or working around camp, but it's not always the case.
---
Hiigra seems to relax when Davis reveals he wants something tangible. He's pretty entranced by the vox program, entranced enough that the shaman speaks up after Davis has had his say and Hiigra is still looking at the vox. It's currently showing a tiny montage of human cultures and technology levels from Earth, from Amazon tribes to shuttle launches.
"They do bring strong trade, chief," the shaman says, tinges of concern in his fur, "but it is dangerous as well. I might ask what the gods will do when they find we have traded heresies for sunrods. Will this... this truth you bring us, will it stop them from burning our village or taking Chosen?"
"Not immediately, not by itself," Davis signs. "But what it will do is allow your tribe, and the other tribes on this world to realize the crimes that the Imperium has been perpetrating against your people for hundreds of years, and band together to stop their exploitation of your people. When we repair the artifact, the ring, it will allow us to bring in an army to stop the Imperium from burning your villages. But for now, time is most important. Your warriors may be fierce, and we are as well, but there are enemies about, and the Imperium will try to turn neighboring tribes against us. They will use their ignorance as a weapon to try to stop us. I will not lie to you, it will not be easy. It will be dangerous, and there very well might be casualties, from your people and from ours. But let me show you what is at stake here."
Davis motions to Hiigra to hand the vox back to him. "May I?" Once he has the vox back, he taps on the screen a few times and brings up the map of Whirr, the map he showed the team back on Diego Garcia. "This is the Imperium map of your planet. This is your village right here, I believe." He hands the vox back to Hiigra, and motions for him and the shaman to look at the screen. "You both read and understand Imperial. What do those glyphs next to your village say?"
Admiral Duck Sauce
